The Jurors' Decision
by mysterious victoria
Summary: Did anyone really know what happened between those 12 men who decided Tom Robinson's fate? Not really, but I have my verison. Canon, following Harper Lee's plot, we see the true colors of some of the men on the jury, and what really happened. R&R! Please!


**Hey guys – I wanted to post this up because my friends thought it was really good. I read ****to Kill a Mockingbird**** for school, and we had to do a creative project about along with an essay. But I did a creative project which was a dialogue between the jurors on how they decided Tom Robinson's verdict. All of the characters you don't recognize are my characters. So, I hope you all enjoy!**

Atticus Finch walked away, and Judge Taylor stood up.

"The jury will have a recess to decide the verdict. Court dismissed." He banged his gavel and walked out as the court room erupted into a wave of chatter. The twelve of us walked out into a separate room; we went down a long hallway and into another room. I was the last in, so I shut the door and locked it. I turned to face the eleven men who looked just as uneasy as I felt. One of the men I knew to be Henry Smithson swore aloud and said,

"That Finch knows what he's doing."

"He's the best lawyer in Maycomb." I interjected. "You'd expect that they'd hire him for this type of case."

"That the other lawyer probably would've made this case a lot easier to verdict, but with what Atticus Finch brought up," Henry Smithson said shaking his head. "It makes harder it on us." He ran a hand through his gray tinted hair and sighed angrily.

"Even when it's _that_ darky being the defendant?" a younger voice asked. I turned around to see Nick Leonard. He was a young newcomer to Maycomb. He had only been here a couple months. He had short, curly brown hair, grass green eyes, and he had a tall, muscular figure. He has a wife, Jennifer and one-year-old boy, Dylan, and they live about five miles from this very court house. He and his family are nice folks, and no one really dislikes them. The only attribute I hate about _him_ is that he was the quickest to judge every single person in Maycomb. His first impression from what I recall about Tom Robinson was that he would be trouble later on. His arms were crossed as he leaned backward against the wall.

""That _darky_" out there hasn't done a thing to you. You haven't even _met_ "that darky", and you're going to tell me, that he actually punched that – white trash – Ewell girl in the face with that bloody crippled hand of his!?!" I demanded angrily and loudly. Nicholas shifted uneasily and looked downward as I talked to him. He knew that he wouldn't even _think_ of arguing with me after I had said that.

"Oh for God's sake Alex, leave the boy alone." William Jacobs told me exasperatedly. "We don't need another argument; we need to decide this verdict." William Jacobs was also a tall man, but he was as skinny as a blade of grass. He has been my friend ever since he moved to Maycomb with his wife Georgia back in the 20s. His usually messy black hair was greased back to keep it away from his face, which made his icy glare triple in its strength.

"But we can't just decide it Will," Samuel Kent interjected. "It is difficult," Sam Kent; his family had been here in Maycomb since my great-granddad won my family's estate. We went to school together, we played ball together, for Lord's sake, we ended up _working_ together. He was a medium-sized man with blue eyes, but was probably the most literate of us all because after we graduated high school, he went into a special elite school up North, and he came out a different man. He knew more about the world; Sam was still the jokester I had become friends with, without a doubt.

"No it ain't." Nicholas said coming out of his corner. "I say just we convict that black, and move on with our lives."

"Why they put you on this jury, boy, I will never understand." Henry said shaking his head. "You can't just convict the man,"

"Yeah, you can. I have, and I will do it again." Nicholas reviled. "If Robinson is sentenced like he ought to be, I will know that what I did what was right for the _good_ of society."

"That's the problem, ain't it?" Henry asked. "We don't what _is_ for the good of this screwed up society of ours, do we?"

"My mind is made up. You won't change it." Nicholas said stepping away from the group of men.

"At least he's got some sense," John Cunningham said from behind Henry.

"You going along with this Cunningham?" I asked quite surprised hearing that from his mouth.

"I said he's got sense Alexander, nothing else." John re-explained simply. I shook my head angrily. I knew he was taking sides with him, which would be, in this case, black man raped white girl – guilty. I still could not believe that he was actually going to go through it.

"I say we take a vote . . . ." William Jacobs suggested. "Those who are in favor of transporting Tom Robinson to prison . . . step to the right side of the room." Slowly all of the men except for Samuel Kent, John Cunningham, and I walked to the right side of the room. William sighed. "I'm sorry Alexander," He also walked towards the rest of the men. I was appalled; how could some of these men who have known Tom Robinson _for years_ think that he would ever _rape_ Mayella Ewell or any girl for that matter.

"What has become of you men?" Sam asked bluntly and angrily. "Do you not care that this man could _die_ in jail and leave behind a wife and his kids!?!"

"A man like that doesn't deserve to live if he raped the Ewell girl." Nicholas taunted. "No man does if he raped a girl, flat out."

"Please, Sam, Alex . . . John, don't make this more difficult by standing by this." William Jacobs pleaded exasperatedly. "And what happens if you're wrong. What happens if Finch is wrong?"

"But what happens if he's right Jacobs?" I asked. "Then we convict an innocent man–"  
"Do we really _know_ he is? Finch doesn't have much proof except for a few coincidences relating to Mr. Ewell and the Negro." Nicholas spoke out again. I suddenly fumed up again.

"YOU'D ACTUALLY LISTEN TO THAT WHITE TRASH?" I yelled furiously.

"Alex, shut up. You know they might hear you outside the door." Sam hissed angrily in my ear.

"I'm sorry it came to this," William Jacobs said. Before we knew it, my wife, John's wife, and Sam's wife were brought in.

"What the–"

"Sam – what're you doing?"

"Jean, what's wrong?"

"Why are you defending Tom? Sam . . . he _is_ guilty."

"What _are you _saying?"

"Alex," I turned to my wife; Sarah. She spoke quietly to me, "Alex, please, convict Tom."

"What?!?" I asked too bewildered to hear this from her.

"Alex . . . they've got our kids." My eyes widened in horror; I saw Nicholas, Lawrence Harolds, who was Miss Stephanie's brother-in-law, and William sneak around the men, grabbing onto something that was definitely smaller than them.

"Daddy?" That was Sam's little boy Mark. He was shaking in fear as he walked up with Nicholas. There was a gun aimed at his head. Sam's eyes widened in horror. He swore aloud, and before he was able to try and grab Nicholas, John and I had restrained him.

"Have you three come to a decision yet?" Nicholas taunted.

"You backstabbing–"

"I wouldn't talk Cunningham." Lawrence Harolds spoke out angrily with his little boy Michael and little girl Kailee.

"John, please,"

"So, how about it Alexander? Will you join us?" William also taunted while bringing up my girl Alyssa. She struggled to get out his grasp, but a full man's grasp was stronger than a teenage girl's.

"Why are you doing this?" John demanded angrily.

"We need Tom Robinson convicted." Nicholas explained simply.

"You're mad–" I bellowed starting to walk up to Nicholas.

"Try me Burnes." Nicholas threatened now aiming the gun at me. I stopped dead in my tracks as I heard Sarah gasp behind me.

"Leonard!" Henry roared. "We can't _shoot_ him! Then the judge'll know something suspicious went on."

"Fine, then." Nicholas decided re-aiming the gun for Mark Kent. "Your choice then Burnes. Little Mark, here, or you join us." I swore to myself; Sam or Jean wouldn't forgive me if I let their only son die right here, right now, in front of them because I wouldn't convict Tom Robinson. _I_ wouldn't be able to forgive myself for it.

"Alright, alright Leonard, you have me." I said walking over to him. "Just let Mark go. Please, let him go." Nicholas pondered on it for a moment, then removed the gun from Mark's head and released his grasp on the boy. Mark ran to Sam, who bent down and hugged his son tightly. He looked up at me, and I nodded. Nicholas glared as I walked to my daughter, who was released.

The twelve of us re-entered the court room. I sat at the last chair away from the man who corrupted every single man in the jury. Heck Tate, the county sheriff, called the court room to silence and order within a minute. Nicholas stood up when Judge Taylor asked for the polls. He handed them to Heck, who then handed them to the clerk, who then gave it to Judge Taylor. I massaged my forehead, just wanting this to be over, but the Judge made the polls drag on.

"Guilty . . . guilty . . . guilty . . . guilty . . . guilty . . ." Atticus's face dropped slightly. I could see his two kids in the balcony. Jem was clutching the railing so tight he might've wanted to break it with his bare hands. Jean Louise looked saddened with her eyes closed. Then it was over; Tom Robinson was convicted guilty. I walked over to Atticus before he left and grasped his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Atticus,"

That was how it ended.


End file.
